


First and foremost

by BakedAppleSauce



Series: The desert is a waste of time [16]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: (also they're discussing something important I guess), Cuddling, Established Relationship, I think this counts as cute, M/M, am I writing fluff?, anything that isn't outright hostile makes me go..., i'm not sure, is this fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 21:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20234545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakedAppleSauce/pseuds/BakedAppleSauce
Summary: “Why’d you decide to fuck me?” Alfie says and then, because he can already sense the kind of answer Tommy might give to a question like that, decides to add, “What I mean is, why not… I dunno. Literally any other bloke?”In which nobody fucking sleeps.(Stand-alone, short and sweet, set somewhere in the future, part of a bigger AU.)





	First and foremost

It’s one of those nights where Alfie has trouble falling asleep. There’s no specific reason for it, really, that’s just what happens sometimes.

He’s made his peace with it. Used to be, he got really angry – at himself, at his bed, at the universe in general, because he already knew he was going to be tired and miserable the next day, which unsurprisingly never made it any better or helped him fall asleep any faster.

So. Unwavering fucking patience it is. (And if sometimes, he can’t help but throw a bit of resignation into the mix as well… so what. It is what it fucking is.)

It’s different now anyway, because as of late, he’s not the only idiot lying in this particular bed with their eyes wide open on a regular basis. There’s somebody right next to him, who’s also wide awake – because Tommy seems physically incapable of sleeping more than four hours during any given night, and as far as Alfie can tell, that’s already the best case scenario. (Maybe he’s staying awake out of solidarity right now, Alfie thinks. Who the fuck knows.)

Obviously, they’re both well aware of the fact that the other one is awake, but for whatever reason they’ve decided to lie there in companionable silence. It is kind of nice, actually. Could try and have sex, Alfie thinks, but despite the fact that his brain has decided to be on high alert for no reason at all, his body feels kind of tired and he doesn’t really feel like moving.

If he pays attention, he can hear Tommy breathing, which is strangely soothing, even though like everything else, it sounds like he’s doing it as defiantly as humanly possible. (Or maybe Alfie is just imagining things. It’s entirely fucking possible.) He shoves both his hands underneath his head with a sigh, links his fingers together. The ceiling looks very dark and very familiar.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What if I say no,” Tommy says. “Is that going to make any difference at all?”

“Probably not, mate,” Alfie says, amused despite himself at how crisp and clear he sounds – like he’s in a boardroom or something. If all you had to go on was his voice, you’d never guess he was curled up under the covers in nothing but his underwear. “Probably not.”

“Fine, then.”

Well, here goes, Alfie thinks. Might as well. If this goes sideways, he can always blame it on the insomnia.

“Why’d you decide to fuck me?” he says and then, because he can already sense the kind of answer Tommy might give to a question like that, decides to add, “What I mean is, why not… I dunno. Literally any other bloke?”

This is met with silence. It’s very irritated silence, Alfie can tell. He’s an expert by now.

Finally, Tommy says, “Like who?“

“Much as I’d like to flatter myself and pretend I’m the only bloke you’ve ever looked at and thought… well, I’ll be _damned,_ right, that is one fine-”

“I have literally never thought that about anyone,” Tommy interrupts immediately. “Ever. Not once.”

“Yeahhh you have,” Alfie drawls, just to rile him. “Bet you stare at me every day, just thinking to yourself-“

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tommy mutters. “It’s the middle of the bloody night.” (Like that is actually something that has ever mattered to him in the slightest.) “And you’ve got nothing better to do-”

“I really haven’t,” Alfie says very seriously.

The irritated silence continues. If Alfie didn’t know with absolute certainty that Tommy would be awake right now no matter what, he’d feel almost bad about keeping him up by making him think about this.

“Quite like being the first, is all,” he says. And it’s not like he thinks that Tommy isn’t aware of that fact, but it still feels like a confession. Kind of wants to add how he feels honored, almost, every time he thinks about that specific detail, but it sounds weirdly formal, even in his own head, so he doesn’t.

“I know,” Tommy says and somehow manages to sound annoyed and amused at the same time. “I am fucking aware of that, you couldn’t be more obvious about it if you bloody tried.”

“Still,” Alfie says. “Just makin’ sure, right. So you _know.”_

There’s movement in the dark, suddenly, the creaking of the bed, the rustling of blankets and then Tommy pulls one of Alfie’s arms out from under his head and around his own shoulders, before he drapes himself over Alfie’s chest, burying his face in the crook of Alfie’s neck. They lie there for a while.

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” Tommy murmurs eventually, sounding muffled because his mouth is pressed against Alfie’s shoulder. “All right? You’re the most annoying one by a fucking mile, so that’s… probably why.”

“I’ll take that,” Alfie says and it sounds like he’s being sarcastic, but he’s absolutely serious.

A minute passes them by, maybe two.

“Any regrets?” Alfie finally asks, very quietly.

“Right this very second? Yes,” Tommy says and clings even harder. “All of them. Now shut up, m’trying to sleep.”

“Will wonders never cease,” Alfie says to the dark ceiling and gets a slap on the arm for his trouble. “Ow! Bloody hell!”

“Deserved it,” Tommy mumbles and Alfie kisses the top of his head – absolutely fucking has to, couldn’t stop himself if he tried; combs a hand through Tommy’s hair for good measure. They could play poker later, he thinks. He’s in no mood to get up and actually fetch the cards, but Tommy is horribly active, even at night, and would probably leave the bed and even walk around without a complaint in the world. But they’ve got time, haven’t they.

“Yeah, mate,” is all Alfie says for now. “All right.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a tumblr ask I got and in the process of answering it I suddenly thought, now hold on a fucking second! I kind of want this to actually _exist_ in this universe! So here we are.
> 
> I'm [bakedapplesauce](https://bakedapplesauce.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


End file.
